The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The night was dark, but there was a moving spot of shadow darker still. She moved through the other shadows but was a distinctly darker blot that avoided notice for being too unremarkable. She could be noticed for the shadows around her seeming brighter by comparison, but with reflexes as swift as hers few had a chance to react to the discovery in time for it to matter.

How she moved was also quite different from any mere shadow. Shadows fell where they were cast and moved as the surrounding light willed. Nightshade moved with purpose. She had to.

She’d known for far too long that she brought her greatest weakness with her wherever she went.

Every corner she rounded, even with her body tightly bound in the darkest cloth she had ever seen, she felt her body move. She felt all of the nerves that her own sister had awoken with so many needles. She could remember the way that she’d been ambushed, unsuspecting that she would find escape so difficult. It had been humbling to learn that the sect that had allowed none to leave in recorded history had been more than prepared for her flight.

She hadn’t been ready for her own sister to be the one to catch her. Her older sister. She’d always been proud of the legacy they were inheriting. She saw nothing wrong with what they would be made to do. She had no difficulty accepting their methods.

Nightshade didn’t allow herself to frown or consider possibilities. If she allowed herself a moment’s weakness then every square inch of her body was potentially disabling.

Midas City had been a quieter place. Without the Syndicate’s presence so many illicit deals were less lucrative. It was a seller’s market with less competition, but the risk was hardly worth it. Informants in the police could no longer be counted on. The few that remained after the Syndicate’s initial defeat were rooted out after Jesse Colloten’s hostile takeover had called for greater scrutiny.

It didn’t help that Dust didn’t seem to care for their presence any more than the heroic element. With enemies on all sides, there was soon no centralized underworld in the bustling city. Few imagined it would last as long as it had.

Nightshade was in the city for just that reason. She climbed the side of one in a row of several indistinct office buildings. From a glance, one was no different than any other. If the information she’d received was even close to correct the inside was the start of a new attempt to resurrect a criminal empire at the heart of Midas.

The information was minimal. The names suspected were more a laundry list of obvious possibilities than anyone of substance. Nightshade knew for a fact that The Spiral was on the west coast and unlikely to be anywhere near Midas City but her name had been there along with every other high ranking official in the Syndicate and several other organizations. Even Mind Bore had been listed, but she found that incredibly unlikely.

The weight of her sword at her back was reassuring that the villain’s attempt to core out her brain like an apple had been miserably unsuccessful.

Nightshade carefully cut a hole in the window, and held the portion of glass as she moved through the now open window. It looked like an average office at a glance. There were cubicles from wall to wall. There were enough decorations on the walls detailing schedules and events. A birthday card was even held in a bulletin board with a thumbtack proudly full of a long list of names that Nightshade failed to recognize.

Everything was too ordinary.

She scaled a wall, and moved along the ceiling and gazed down into cubicle after cubicle. Things were meticulously out of place. For a woman trained to stalk her prey as soon as she had been able to walk, Nighshade could tell when an environment lacked any natural human influence.

There was no doubt in her mind that indeed the facility found itself heavily used. It was far too useful to merely be cast off and forgotten. However, she was just as certain that it was used. There were too many workstations with what appeared to be quite functional computers.

It was one thing to set up a safe house to look like it was lived in. It was another to set up an office. Nightshade frowned as she noticed how perfectly each chair was tucked under its desk.

The image of the office filled with identically dressed women moving to their cubicles to perform mundane tasks all day that further cemented another’s will over their own was too easy to imagine. It made her remember the facility where she’d first met Silver Girl. It hadn’t been very assuming, and so much effort had gone into making portions look like an actual school facility.

If she hadn’t been tipped off by Jade, she was sure the silver skinned heroine would not have been found by her or anyone else until long after even more damage had been done.

The ceiling tiles were all so much the same. Each was the same simple square with the same black dots over a plain white surface. That the tiles held her weight was another sign for concern. Someone didn’t want her, or anyone else, getting behind them. While that had just as much chance to be a red herring, that no ordinary building with such tiles had held even the weight of a faint tug was not.

She pressed her hand to the next tile as she moved towards a vent at the far side of the room. It was small, but big enough that she felt confident a woman with her skills could find her way through. One by one she removed all the screws holding it in place besides one.

After she slipped through, she contorted herself enough to pull the vent closed behind her and exerted just enough force to break it into place.

She continued through the vent for a time before she felt a hand caress along the back of her thigh. She stopped moving and trembled, grasping desperately at the inside of the ventilation shaft. Her eyes had long since adapted to seeing in shadows as dark as she. She looked behind her, but nothing was there. Nothing at all.

With a shake of her head, she continued through the vent. It was clear that she had been thinking far too much about her sister. She could still remember the needles going into her breasts, her nipples, her back… she could remember how her body had shuddered and stiffened.

She remembered how moment by moment it had become harder and harder to think. It was easier just to listen, simpler just to do as she was told, everything was easier if she just…

Nightshade shook her head, and moved quicker through the vent. She resolved that her uniform was too loose, or too tight. The minefield of her body was a delicate equilibrium to maintain. Perhaps she had been too hasty in dressing. Perhaps there was a faint breeze in the vent and the tiniest of holes in her uniform.

With no touches following, her confidence began to return. She would find where the vent lead, and find what untoward secret the building held-

Nails sliding down along my back, pressing against my supple skin. They’re so sharp, so strong, and the feeling is so much like the needles my sister used, the needles that I wanted to make me a slave! Nightshade groaned as she fell limp within the vent. She could still feel the shudders along her spine from the sensation of those nails. They had been so real, even if she was sure her back had been pressed too firmly against the ceiling of the vent for any hands to wiggle between.

But that had been the feeling. There was no mistaking it. She groaned as she rubbed her cheek against the cool vent to try soothing her body. Her nipples throbbed and pulsed with each frantic beat of her heart.

Just like when she’d tried to escape from her sister, she wanted the feelings. She wanted to feel those hands touching her everywhere. She wanted to feel those needles…

She shook her head, silently screaming in a vain attempt to regain control. She never let anyone touch her. It had been years. She knew even the faintest of touches could ruin her composure. The more intense the touch, the more impossible it would be for her to fight.

At least it hasn’t… isn’t… It’s leaving my nipples alone, so I ca—!

Nightshade howled, screaming as she felt needles pressing into both of her nipples at once. It was the same places they’d first been pierced, filled by cool metal that left no chance to resist and no room to struggle. She was paralyzed, frozen as her pussy clenched beneath the impossibly dark black of her uniform that grew ever darker with her lust. Her eyes widened, trapped, terrified. Struggling meant no good. Her breasts were squished down against the inside of the vent. There was no way the needles were there, but she could feel them.

The longer she felt them, the harder it was to feel anything else.

“Come on out of the vent, Nightshade.” An unfamiliar woman’s voice called to her, and she found her body all too ready to comply. She tried to fight it, but her own voice inside of her mind was growing weaker and weaker as she made her way out of the vent and fell gracefully to her feet where she helplessly swayed.

Her head bowed at the feeling of force pushing it down. Two women were before her. One she only caught a glimpse of brown curly hair. The other, all she got a good look at was the soft pink color of her heels.

“Give her more, Monica. If we’re going to make a brighter future, I’m going to need all of you doing your best. Devoted to the cause. Even if neither of you will be there for the big moments… you can still help advance my plans significantly…” The woman’s voice sounded oddly familiar to the dazed Nightshade. It sounded like something she’d heard in her mind. She could almost swear that she’d heard the voice whispering to her while she was in the vent before the order to emerge.

“Yesss Doctor Lys…” Monica moaned, and Nightshade crashed down to her knees. Countless needles stabbed into her body, gently, from all sides at once. Her pussy overflowed, and she came again and again as she found it harder and harder to move.

Her eyes glassed over as her thighs clenched, and her hands balled up into tight, shuddering fists. Her toes curled as juices ran slick along the inside of her thighs.

Flashes of her sister’s face filled Nightshade’s mind. She saw the cool smirk as the first needle went into her breasts. She felt the cool burn of humiliation as tears welled in her eyes from just her sister’s superior, disappointed expression. Needles pressed along her spine, making her limp as all the tension and strength melted helplessly away from her body.

“A ninja should provide helpful in my endeavors… I’ll need to keep you under wraps, but no one should even notice you’re missing. You might have been able to take down Mind Bore, but I’m far more meticulous with making sure my puppets don’t bite the hand that binds them. Funny, I’m using one of her tools to capture you now. She doesn’t even need to reach you to touch you. She can just hold out a hand.” Lys’s smirk was audible as mental needles embedded themselves along the inside of Nightshade’s thighs. The light of consciousness died in her eyes as she struggled to even make sputtering gasps of pleasure as her mind and body were overwhelmed by the needle dance being played out across her body.

“Don’t hold back, Monica. Blank her. It’ll be awhile before I get my hands on a real tech wizard to solve these problems. Until then I’m working with scraps.”

“W-with... MMmMmmmmm… Scraps… Yessss Doctor Lys…” A needle pressed in just between Nightshade’s eyes, piercing her very sense of self. The orgasm that finished drenching her suit would have made the building shake if she wasn’t obediently paralyzed the moment it began.

Nightshade sat held down to her chair with straps over her ankles, wrists, and one above and below her exposed breasts. In front of her was a screen with a swirling pattern of colors that bent and twisted between seemingly impossible shapes. Drool poured down from the corner of her lips as juices soaked her thighs.

Occasionally she moaned, shuddering and arching helplessly towards the screen. Her eyes were dull brown spheres, seeing the colors but registering nothing but the messages hidden behind them.

They strobed with purpose, flashing words that only her sleeping mind saw.

Your body belongs to Doctor Lys.

She moaned, her eyes crossing for a moment as her hips shuddered forward. Her nipples were impossibly hard, and every time the whole screen changed its arrangement she let out a pitifully desperate cry. Her sounds were wordless. Her mind was too far lost to plead or beg. Instead, all she could do was yearn and quake.

A young woman stood beside her, adjusting her lab coat before looking over fields on a paper held to her clipboard. She checked off symptoms as Nightshade shuddered and whimpered out pitiful mewls.

“Really am sorry it had to work out like this. I might be a psychic, but I’m not nearly strong enough to subjugate someone on my own. Not yet. Not even someone like you, with a backdoor into your mind. I will soon. You and Monica are going to help me practice.” Lys smiled serenely as Nightshade let out another louder, sharper cry.

Her breasts bounced as she clutched desperately at the chair. Her thighs clenched. Her eyes stared for some deeper meaning, and found it.

You belong to Doctor Lys. You belong to the Brighter Future.

Nightshade mumbled something approximating the words her mind could take in but not actively process. She couldn’t struggle. She couldn’t even dream of it.

More checkboxes were filled as Nightshade began to pant with a quicker strobing of the screen in the dark room. Her bonds held her tight and fast no matter how hard she struggled. She belonged to Doctor Lys. It was simply a fact. It was true, and as far as she could remember it had always been true.

“Maybe I’ll have you work by day in my little office. There’s so much busywork you know. So many business deals to arrange. We’ll need a lot of money to build the facilities that I need… But don’t worry, I have no intention on running an organized crime ring. The information that made its way to you was false.” Lys spoke as though the shuddering woman could somehow hear or acknowledge anything past the screen that filled her vision and pounded away at her mind.

Nightshade’s screams were hardly replies to her, but Lys nodded all the same. She marked off another checkbox, and scribbled words into a small field.

“I really have to thank you. If you hadn’t killed Mind Bore, I wouldn’t have been able to so easily get my hands on her supplies. Too many of them are really quite crude… but I think that she was on to something with the idea of robots…”

Nightshade came, and Lys ticked off another check box.

Monica moved behind Nightshade, and placed a metal collar around her neck. A small needle in the back pierced her spine, and Nightshade went still and silent as its influence began to take hold. She could offer up no resistance, only moan as the needle pierced her mind and filled her with truths that could not be refuted or ignored.

“I really am opposed to such strong methods… But the time that I didn’t do this to you, even after I had you under my mental domination? You stabbed me through the throat.” Lys frowned and twisted up her face as she filled another checkbox. “That doesn’t appeal.”

Circuitry laced through Nightshade’s mind, and a dim light shined from behind her eyes.

“But this way, while I’m using you to practice refining my mental skills if I program the collar to make you exert mental resistance you won’t have a choice. You’ll be the best test subject. There are many headaches in my future… but none of them as big as that LaSilvas brat.” Lys twisted Nightshade’s nipple, and not even a cry passed from her lips.